star wars old republic sith empire story
by Unkn0wn Writ3r
Summary: This is not meant to be canon in any way shape or form. I am not trying to leach off star wars or anything of that nature. I just had an idea and decided to write it out.


Markilo Shaw, a Jedi master, and his apprentice, a seven year old padawan known as Stila, landed on the small mining colony of Kylus. Markilo had been sent there to look for force sensitives or those who were handy with weapons. Markilo was staying at a local stonemason's house until he found the youth he was looking for. The family he and Stila were staying with had many children, all promising padawans, except for the youngest. He was a queer one, always cutting and carving with the old men instead of mining or building strength like his contemporaries. His name was Masalis. Stila often played with him, they were both the same age, having mock lightsaber duels with sticks and, in Stila's case, mind tricking each other. On the last night of Markilo's stay, Markilo was walking along a dirt path near the mines, Masalis and Stila walking behind him, until Masalis ran ahead and started digging at a spot a few feet away from the path. Markilo and Stila walked over to see a dirty Masalis hold up a small blue crystal, a Kyber crystal. "Can you make a lightsaber with this?" Masalis asked. Markilo laughed as he took a small, strange device from his cloak. It was like a lightsaber, and as Markilo took the small crystal and fitted it into a slot in the center, sealed the door and flipped the switch. A small blade of light emanated from the from the top, blue and sparking. Markilo turned off the odd device and handed it to Masalis, who took it very gently and reverently. "That is a lightknife, a device of my own invention." Markilo said, "It is a much less powerful and shorter version of the lightsaber, but mirrors the qualities of a normal lightsaber. It should be used only for defensive purposes, and" Markilo turned to look at Masalis, the steel grey eyes of the Jedi master locking onto the child's earth brown eyes. "It is also a promise that I will train you, after I finish training Stila, to become a Jedi. Masalis stood there, stunned, "Me? A Jedi?" Stila gave him a friendly punch in the shoulder, "Of course silly." Stila said as she broke into a sprint towards Masalis's home, Masalis, running behind her, Markilo jogging jsut fast enough to keep up. As the three neared Masalis's home, Stila turned to shout something to Masalis, but crashed to the ground as she bumped into someone. The guttural sounds emitted from the person mouth told Stila that she had bumped into a Tusken. As Markilo and Masalis caught up, Stila dived behind Markilo's cloak as Markilo attempted to reason with the Tusken. Masalis stepped between the master and the Tusken, bowing low and exhanging growls with the angry Tusken. After a intense few minutes of growls and small roars, the Tusken shoved Masalis aside and went on its way. Masalis got up saying, "The Tusken forgives you this time." Stila looked at him with a small amount of awe. "You can speak Tusken?"

"I can fluently speak Tusken, Wookie, Genosian, as well as about eight other scavenger languages." Masalis replied. Markilo looked impressed and Stila's jaw dropped. The rest of the night passed quietly and calmly. In the morning, Markilo and Stila boarded their transport back to Coruscant, leaving Masalis, parcticing use of his lightknife, preparing for the day Markilo would return.

-Five years later-

Stila walked down the hall, her heart soaring. She had just completed her trials of knighthood, and from now on she was no longer a padawan, but a true Jedi Knight. Markilo greeted her, joy radiant on his face. Their relationship was no longer that of master to pupil, but that of friends, albeit there was still a gap in power between Markilo and herself. Markilo had come to see her before he left on a solo mission the Jedi council had given him. After he finished the mission, he would go to Kylus and train Masalis in the Jedi arts. Stila accompanied him as he walked to his transport. Stila waved goodbye at her mentor as he clambered into the transport. She didn't know it at the time, but that was the last time she would see her dear tutor. The following morning, the Jedi council released the news that Markilo Shaw, a Jedi master, had gone missing. The Jedi council immediately started searching. Stila pleaded with the council to let her go search for him, but the council would not allow it. As a consolation however, they put her in charge of bringing Masalis to the council to be tested. If he passed, he would become a Jedi, but if he didn't he would be sent back to Kylus. Stila made the preparations as soon as possible. The Jedi master the council had chosen to accompany her and to observe the combat abilities of Masalis, a strong and commanding man known as Al-Kaz, walked confidently onto the transport the council had readied for Stila's journey to Kylus. Stila sat down and waited as they hurtled through hyperspace, her mind still numb from Markilo's disappearance. When they got to Kylus and landed down, Stila was shocked to see the small mining town trashed and in shambles. Stila ran, surveying the damage with mounting dread. She soon found the wrecked remains of Masalis's home, encased in wooden scaffolding. "What happened?" Stila asked the nearest villager. "The Hutt syndicate raided us and took many of our young workers and trashed the city."

"Did they take a boy about my age named Masalis?" Stila asked, fear making her heart pound.

"Yes. Masalis was among the missing." The villager said as he turned back to work on helping rebuild the broken city. Stila stepped back as Al-Kaz caught up. Stila turned to Al-Kaz unable to whisper more than the words "He's gone."

"I know. We must return and report to the council about this. I'm sure they will allow you to search for Masalis, and I will put it to the council to put you in charge of finding Markilo." Al-Kaz said as the two went back to the ship and made for Coruscant. Stila waited outside the doors to the council as Al-Kaz told the rest of the Jedi masters about Masalis's fate. When he exited the doors to tell Stila, he looked tired and haggard. "The council has approved of your request to search for both Markilo and Masalis and tells you to implore the aid of your Jedi brothers and sisters. Today has been a tiring day, so I wish you a good night and a warning to not lose hope if the search takes a long time." Stila thanked Al-Kaz and, after he had rounded the corner, immediately went to get a early start on the search.

-Five years later-

Stila and Al-Kaz landed in a desert on Tatooine, the place where a Jedi Knight on his break had seen someone who looked like Masalis. Ever since his apparent abduction five years previous, the Jedi knights had been searching for both him and Markilo. The hunt for Markilo had been depressingly unsuccessful, but many young Jedi came to Stila with reports of people who looked like Masalis, of course most of the time the reports proved false. After all, the only picture of Masalis was when he was seven years old, but Stila had a good feeling this time. Something told that this would be the day. This would be the time she found Masalis and would bring him to the Jedi council to be tested in his force sensitivity. The Jedi master next to her would analyze Masalis, if indeed the report proved true, in his combat abilities and do a basic force analysis. He was also there to see if Stila was ready to become a Jedi Knight. As they entered the city where Masalis was seen, a boy was standing at the entrance of a cafe looked at them. The Jedi who had sent in the report had told Stila that a boy outside a cantina would be able to show them where Masalis was. Stila and the master put up the hoods on their cloaks as they hurried to the boy, telling him that they wanted to see Masalis. "Oh. You two friends of the last hooded guy who asked me about someone named Masalis?"

"Yes, can you please direct us to where he was seen?"

"Not likely in this weather." The boy said as he went into the cantina, Stila and Al-Kaz following him inside, away from the incoming sandstorm. " I should be able to for a price." The boy finished as they found a semi quiet corner in th bustling cantina, a impish grin on his sand stained face. Stila gave a mental groan as she gave 15 credits to the boy, who pocketed them with avaricious glee. "Thanks." The boy said, hopping up to check on the storm's progress. "Well, I guess you two are lucky. The storm is just about done, and we aren't too far from where that guy you were looking for is."

"Where did you see him exactly?" Stila asked, her green eyes pinning down the scruffy kid.

"He's usually in the arena, and the arena is just a block behind this cantina. He even comes here sometimes to have a bit of food."

"Can you please show us the way to this arena?" Al-Kaz asked kindly.

"Sure. You just take a right out of the cantina, walk down the street, take two rights and you're there." The kid said, lounging in a chair near the window. "Looks like the storm's done. It's safe to go outside now." Stila and Al-Kaz made their way out the door, thanking the boy for his help and tipping the cantina a credit or two. Stila and Al-Kaz followed the directions the boy had given her and found themselves in front of a big sandstone building, people flocking to the entrance. A large, jovial man was directing the crowd inside in a disorderly fashion. As the two Jedi started to go about finding a way in, a very official looking man beckoned them over. "You must be Stila and Al-Kaz correct?" He asked in a stiff, formal voice. The two Jedi nodded, exchanging suspicious glances with each other. Most of the time, being expected was not a good sign. "Good. My master Hutt was told of your arrival by Novus Fenix. Stila gave an audible sigh of relief as the name of the Jedi Knight who had given her the report. The attendant ushered them through a side entrance and up some stairs to a curtained balcony where Jabba the Hutt sat, large and imposing. The attendant walked over and conversed with The Hutt for a few minutes before turning to Stila and Al-Kaz and saying, " Master welcomes you to the arena and invites you to watch the fight from his balcony."

"We are not here to watch a brawl." Stila said icily. Jabba laughed before uttering a few words to the attendant. "Master Hutt would like to tell you that watching the fight will help you find Masalis quicker."

"We thank both you and Master Hutt for your kind treatment of us." Al-kKaz interjected, glaring sidelong at Stila. The Hutt gave a few more words to the attendant before moving towards the balcony to start the arena. "Master accepts your thanks and tells you that the arena match for today is about to start." The two moved to the right side of the balcony, making sure that they could clearly see all of the arena. The attendant sat on a chair near the two Jedi. "I will be here to translate for both of you." The Hutt gave a rousing cry, the deep noises emanating from his throat echoing over the packed stadium stands. "I'll start translating now." The attendant said. "Welcome to the arena." The attendant began. "Today is the championship match between the runner up, Kenoki, and the champion." A gate opposite from the balcony opened and a immense, six foot giant of a man trudged out, faced the crowd and gave a triumphant roar. The crowd, full of all different kinds and races, roared back with barely contained excitement. The other gate, the one beneath The Hutt's balcony, opened and a slim young man, from what Stila could see of him she guessed he was about her age, with brown hair walked into the center of the arene about fifteen feet away from the giant Kenoki. The young man said nothing, but the crowd erupted into cries of glee, roaring in a dozen different languages. The Hutt continued saying, "Let the match begin." After this brief sentence, The Hutt grabbed a small bird and threw it against a gong on the left of the balcony. As the now comatose bird fell to the arena floor, Kenoki rushed toward the young man, his massive arms opened wide, reaching for the young man's body. The young man waited until Kenoki was almost on top of him before sprinting forward, dodging Kenoki's arms as he tried to get a grip on him. The young man threw three short, sharp punches at Kenoki's vast midriff before leaping back and rolling to avoid Kenoki's meaty hands as he tried to grab him. The young man continued this tactic, dancing in and out of Kenoki's reach, delivering blow after blow to various places around Kenoki's body. The small attacks and the lack of success at grabbing his smaller opponent seemed to be getting to Kenoki, as he made a made lunge toward the young man, throwing away any balance. The young man easily sidestepped the grab and brought his elbow down sharply on Kenoki's neck. Kenoki gave a roar of pain as the blow pushed him to the sandy floor of the arena. Kenoki tried to get up, but at his first attempt the young man gave a savage kick to the side of Kenoki's chest. The young man continued to kick and batter Kenoki, attacking any weak spot he could, until Kenoki cried out, "I concede!" His voice was deep and imposing, but the constant heavy bereathing made it seem quite harmless. The young man stopped kicking and held up his hand, his fingers counting the numbers 0,4,0, and 1 rapidly. The crowd roared at this sign and started to chant, each race in its own language. Stila turned to the attendant to ask what they were saying before she heard what the crowd was saying. They were chanting the numbers the fighter had held up. Stila looked at the attendant before he said, "Every time he wins, he counts the win. This was his 401st win, a new record for most wins and consecutive wins." The Hutt leader signaled the young man to return to his side and sent others to throw out Kenoki's unconscious form. The young man walked out of Stila's view, back into the gate he had walked out of just minutes before. The attendant gestured to a separate ramp that led downward saying, "These stairs lead to the champion's room. If you will accompany the Master and I, perhaps our champion can aid you in finding your man. Stila and Al-Kaz followed the attendant and the Hutt as they traveled to the champion's room. As the attendant opened the door, Stila whispered to Al-Kaz, "Whoever this fighter is, he's strong." Al-Kaz nodded and replied, "His abilities in combat seem quite equal to most Jedi Knights and outstrips some. If we don't find Masalis, this fighter might be a promising aspect if he is sensitive enough." Stila nodded as they entered the fighter's room. It was bare, furnished only with a table, a bed, and a small kitchenette. Junk littered the room, claiming any available surface, even encroaching onto the table and the bed. The fighter was sitting at this table, a odd device in his hand, sparks flying as he shaped some scrap metal. Stila knew the device as soon as she saw the small blue blade and heard the irregular hum. It was the lightknife that Markilo has made for Masalis. Stila rushed ver to the fighter and demanded to know where he had gotten that device. The fighter turned to look at her, his stained brown hair framing two calm brown eyes that looked as black as the depths of the ocean, and said, "It was given to me by a Jedi Knight named Markilo Shaw, when I was seven. It is a promise that he would return and train me in the arts of being a Jedi." Stila took a step back before she whispered a single name. "Masalis?" The young man, it was Masalis, looked at Stila with sudden recognition. "Stila? Stila! How is Markilo? Why are you here and who is that next to you?" Stila raised a hand to stop Masalis's endless amount of questions. "Markilo is missing and this is Jedi master Al-Kaz. He is here to analyze your combat skills and force sensitivity." Al-Kaz coughed, turning Masalis's attention to him. "I have already seen your combat abilities and all I need to test your force sensitivity is get a small blood sample, if you don't mind." Masalis shook his head and extended his arm to Al-Kaz. After a few minutes Al-Kaz looked at Masalis with a somewhat sour look. "Well the good news is that you are sensitive enough to become a Jedi, but there's something odd in your blood, but don't worry it's nothing serious." Masalis looked at the two Jedi with a nervous expression. "So, do we leave now or what?" He asked gently.

"We'll leave for Coruscant the day after tomorrow." Al-Kaz said, settling down on a semi stable pile of junk. The Hutt and the attendant had left the room just before the blood had been taken, so it was just the three of them in Masalis's room. "I can retire from the arena. The arena is the only thing keeping me here and I long since bought myself out of slavery. If I remember right, my retirement fund is about 1 million credits. If you two don't have any place to stay in mind, I can arrange a room for you here at the arena."

"Thank you for your kindness." Al-Kaz said as the three exited Masalis's room to get dinner and arrange sleeping conditions.

-In the desert-

A middle-aged man exited out from a black ship, the emblem of the Sith Empire emblazoned on its side. He had tracked the elusive Jedi master Al-Kaz and a promising young Jedi knight as well as someone he could easily turn to the dark side. He gave a small laugh as he entered his ship to rest for tomorrow. Tomorrow would see the end of Al-Kaz, one of the greatest Jedi masters in terms of aerial combat and command and one of the people that must die before the Empire made its move.


End file.
